I dipped it to
survive it so wild you hate me—the feud of a man so drastic in blood tasting
salty brine. five wounds five planets five guts. to mis-figure to drown in
phantoms to be called darkness or hopeless our predicament our human condition.
too confused as a man is his habits a woman might need a pill but momma was
better—if but a scream if but a dream such passion for her son; as he never
loved as according to pain while he couldn’t understand it. I hit a cigarette
jumped in a Caprice stabbing down PCH—the lights are jammed those skies are
doors the body is itchy. over a corner a bottle of liquor a group of black men;
sipping sorrows pledged to avail so ghetto while Harris is in line—the Obama
fever the Machelle pride to look, act, and be a superwoman; the rain hitting as
it touches his face so dry in his intelligence so active in his pursuits while
father remained a mystery. we never do right we seem pathetic while I can’t get
angry. but love hates his guts she figures a rainbow while a man has more to give.
so egregious so gregarious where convergence became isolation—the mystic charm
while it becomes lethal but Love gives no leniency. upon a daffodil semi-laced
while I stagger home the year is irrelevant, it’s so damn lonely while envy
sparked a joint; the pain of the Jordan the damages in Kobe where we hope in a
White President. if to die for us, we’ll give it back, for we know reciprocation.
I can’t fathom it, I feel dizzy, I crash on a couch—the demons are nightmares a
daughter I never learned or such trauma where he needs to live—the deaths in
veins the smoke-filled rooms while gracious a cyclone! she seemed like a coach
or a sage while something seeped into focus. we seem to grow where obstacles
are submitted while suffering might feel adequate. a knotted reality a knitted
causality while we need people to reassess us—at every churn every midnight if
but to suggest a person is good!
